


Best-Friends, Boyfriends and Beignets

by leopardchic79



Series: A Series of Sometimes Fortunate Events [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Courfeyrac & Enjolras are not really a thing, Courfeyrac being Courfeyrac, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Sharing a Bed, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopardchic79/pseuds/leopardchic79
Summary: So now, here he was…under the covers with Courfeyrac, drunk, still a little sad and silently reminiscing over the past.“He’ll forgive you, you know,” Courfeyrac said softly, a small smile on his face.  He reached out and plucked a stray curl off of Enjolras’ face.  They were sharing a pillow, limbs haphazardly tangled in the way that only best friends who have known each other for most of their lives can do.
Relationships: Courfeyrac/Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Series: A Series of Sometimes Fortunate Events [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597462
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70





	Best-Friends, Boyfriends and Beignets

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically takes place prior to "Influential," but can be read on its own.

It had been a long time since the three of them had done this. In high school they had practically lived at one another’s houses – or more often than not, Enjolras had stayed at one of their places. He didn’t like having them over unless his parents were out of town as his relationship with his family was indifferent at best. But in college, despite seeing one another practically every day, they had lived in different dorms, then in different apartments. Their group of three had expanded, relationships had developed, life changed; now they were graduates with jobs and living in separate apartments in different parts of the city. That wasn’t to say they hadn’t remained close, but they just weren’t constantly in one another’s physical presence these days. 

Except now…now Courfeyrac had dragged Enjolras with him into Combeferre’s bed, the latter of whom was already asleep having given up on the two of them about an hour previously. Enjolras was still upset from his fight with Grantaire, and Courfeyrac had missed his friends and was eager to offer comfort and advice. Combeferre, although sympathetic to Enjolras’ situation was also slightly exasperated over something that happened so frequently. He also had grad school classes the next day and didn’t want to stay up while they drank two bottles of wine. 

So now, here he was…under the covers with Courfeyrac, drunk, still a little sad and silently reminiscing over the past. 

“He’ll forgive you, you know,” Courfeyrac said softly, a small smile on his face. He reached out and plucked a stray curl off of Enjolras’ face. They were sharing a pillow, limbs haphazardly tangled in the way that only best friends who have known each other for most of their lives can do. 

Enjolras didn’t answer. Instead, he shut his eyes and pressed a little closer, hand seeking out Courfeyrac’s under the blanket and squeezing. 

“Do you remember the last time we did this?” he asked softly, eyes still closed. 

When he opened them he found Courfeyrac smiling curiously at him and shaking his head. “Not really…you’re always too serious to snuggle with me,” he teased. 

Enjolras frowned – would’ve glared better if his head hadn’t been spinning a bit. “Don’t say snuggle again please.” 

Courfeyrac laughed, stifling it slightly when Combeferre stirred and turned onto his side away from them. He probably knew they were there and was trying to ignore them and go back to sleep. 

“So when was the last time we did this?” Courfeyrac asked in a whisper. His dark eyes were twinkling with amusement. 

“High school. You…kissed me,” Enjolras replied, blushing slightly. 

Courfeyrac’s eyes widened and he grinned. “Your first kiss!” he said gleefully. “You nervously propositioned me! I did _not_ forget that!” 

Enjolras blushed harder, trying to glare at him and failing because their current proximity made it all seem ridiculous. “I did not _proposition_ you. _You_ gave me too many drinks and I simply happened to mention that I had never been kissed. You were the one who--” 

Courfeyrac kissed him, just a quick, chaste press of lips before he pulled back and grinned brightly. “Sorry, just trying to refresh my memory.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Enjolras replied flatly. He was still blushing. 

Eyes glinting with mischief, Courfeyrac pushed his fingers into Enjolras’ hair. “I still don’t remember all that clearly…I think I should try again. For memory’s sake.” He gave Enjolras the slightest chance to tell him no before pressing their lips together again. 

It wasn’t chaste this time. He gripped the back of Enjolras’ neck gently and held him in place. He took his time, pressing their lips together softly at first, then sucking gently on Enjolras’ bottom lip. He dragged his fingernails lightly over his scalp and pressed Enjolras’ mouth open, slipping his tongue inside and kissing him thoroughly. 

It was warm and soft and wet and there was absolutely no expectation of or want for more. Enjolras’ head was quickly swimming, one hand fisted in Courfeyrac’s t-shirt, the other gripping his upper arm. He kissed him back, chasing the feeling of lightness and warmth and comfort. 

There had been a time – maybe after that first kiss in high school, maybe during random nights in college, maybe both – when Enjolras had wondered if Courfeyrac had wanted to try and seduce him. He’d never once thought it was anything romantic or that his friend had unrequited feelings for him. But Courfeyrac was incessantly physically affectionate, and he had often wondered if he didn’t want to sleep with him just to say he had…and because they’d always been close. Enjolras wasn’t one-hundred percent sure, and he’d never worked up the courage to ask…he knew the response he’d receive would be a wide, glinting grin and endless teasing offers. 

They made out for a while, Courfeyrac finally pulling back slowly, tongue sweeping through his mouth once more, sucking his bottom lip gently between his own, then pressing long soft kisses against his swollen, wet lips. He pulled back and grinned into Enjolras’ dazed blue eyes. 

“I remember now,” he murmured, still smiling. 

“If you two are finished making out, I’d like to get some sleep!” 

They both jumped at the sound of Combeferre’s voice. Enjolras rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands, blushing in embarrassment. Courfeyrac laughed loudly and reached over to ruffle Combeferre’s hair. 

“Sorry, ‘Ferre. Enjolras started it.” 

“I did not!” he exclaimed, hands still over his face. 

Combeferre sighed. “I don’t care who started it…and if you wanna keep going at it, could you please move to the couch?” he sounded exasperated but also amused. 

“I think we’re done,” Courfeyrac answered. “I don’t think Enjolras is gonna go all the way with me tonight.” 

Combeferre laughed. He leaned over and wrapped an arm protectively across Enjolras’ waist. “Leave my best friend alone,” he murmured. “He’s just drunk and in a fight with his boyfriend.” 

“ _Your_ best friend?!” 

They bickered good-naturedly for a few minutes, but it suddenly all became white-noise to Enjolras. Combeferre’s words had jolted him back to the reason he was here in the first place – sharing a bed with his two best friends instead of Grantaire. 

_Grantaire._

He’d said some very hurtful things to him earlier; he’d seen just how hard they had hit in his eyes. He wished more than anything he could take them all back. 

Turning suddenly, he buried his face in Courfeyrac’s shoulder. “I _hurt_ him,” he breathed, pain coloring his voice. He squeezed his eyes shut over tears that threatened. “I need to…fix it.” 

“Oh E,” Courfeyrac murmured. He held him close and ran his hand up and down his side. “It’ll be all right.” 

Combeferre slid closer, pressing up against his back and wrapping his arms around him. “Yeah. He loves you, Enjolras. He’ll forgive you,” he said softly against his neck. 

Enjolras drew in a shaky breath but stayed quiet. He hoped they were right. 

The three of them fell asleep soon after, tangled together. 

~*~*~* 

Enjolras woke up to the sounds of his friends’ voices; when he realized it was more than just Combeferre and Courfeyrac he forced himself to stay still for a moment and just listen. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready to face Grantaire yet. 

“How did you even get in here?” Combeferre asked over a yawn. 

“Jehan has a key,” Grantaire replied. 

“Courf gave me a key,” Jehan added. 

“Why did _Courfeyrac_ give you a key to _my_ apartment?” 

“Just in case,” Courfeyrac replied. He untangled himself from Enjolras and sat up slowly, stretching his arms overheard. 

“That explains nothing,” Combeferre muttered. 

Enjolras forced himself to open his eyes and sit up. Grantaire and Jehan had plopped themselves at the foot of the bed. He met Grantaire’s gaze instantly and felt himself helpless to look away. There was sadness there yes, but it faded slightly and instead he found himself rewarded with a soft smile. It made his heart ache sharply and he suddenly wished that his friends would all disappear. 

“Jehan, you didn’t happen to bring doughnuts did you?” Combeferre asked suddenly. Jehan worked part time at a local coffee shop and the entirety of their group of friends was obsessed with the freakishly good doughnuts. But Enjolras knew what he was doing as he felt him get out of bed. He was endlessly grateful for the best friend who knew him so well and knew he needed a moment alone with Grantaire. 

Jehan smiled. “Of course I did. But technically, they’re called--” 

“Beignets,” they all chorused together. He was always insistent on the correct pastry name. 

Jehan rolled his eyes, but he stood up as well and gave Enjolras a soft smile. “Courf, come get some _beignets_.” 

Courfeyrac, who would’ve otherwise stayed and attentively observed Enjolras and Grantaire, reluctantly got out of bed – not before pressing a noisy kiss to Enjolras’ cheek. He squeezed Grantaire’s arm as he walked past and then quickly started yelling to save him any doughnut that had sprinkles on it. 

“Hey,” Grantaire said softly. He still had that same half-sad smile on his face. 

Enjolras worried his bottom lip between his teeth and pushed his unruly curls off of his forehead. Leaning forward, he reached out and gripped Grantaire’s hand tightly. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for the things I said and for hurting you.” 

Turning his hand over, Grantaire thread their fingers together. He looked down for a few moments at their hands, thumb moving back and forth over Enjolras’ skin. When he finally looked up, his eyes were warm. “I’m sorry too, Enjolras.” 

“I hate fighting with you,” he said softly. 

“But we’re so good at it,” Grantaire replied, words just a little bit sharp. 

It was half-joking but it still hurt. Enjolras winced and looked down. 

Grantaire let go of his hand, but was suddenly close, pulling him into his arms and slipping fingers beneath his chin. “I’m sorry, Apollo,” he said softly. 

Enjolras leaned forward and let his head drop onto Grantaire’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and turned into his neck, breathing him in and pulling him close. The sad fact of the matter was that they _were_ good at fighting. Sometimes they had trouble communicating…but not when they were arguing. Enjolras was bad with expressing his feelings, he knew that. Words came easily to him for so many things…unfortunately that included harsh and cutting ones. But it was difficult for him to express the feelings in his heart. 

He pulled Grantaire with him, lying back down and holding him close. He reached up to tangle his fingers in his dark curls. “I love you.” 

Grantaire’s smile was warm and automatic and he pressed his fingers to Enjolras’ jaw as he pulled him in for a kiss. Enjolras responded eagerly, pressing forward and kissing him back. Feeling lighter suddenly, he pulled the sheet over their heads and smiled against Grantaire’s mouth. 

Grantaire rested his hand against Enjolras’ neck, running his thumb back and forth beneath his ear. “So how did you end up in bed with your two BFF’s?” 

“Courfeyrac,” he answered simply. 

Grantaire laughed. “Typical.” 

Enjolras knew he had to give him the whole story. He wasn’t exactly worried about Grantaire’s reaction, but maybe a little nervous. “Combeferre went to bed earlier. Courf and I stayed up and uh, drank a couple bottles of wine.” 

“Oh did you now?” Grantaire asked, amused. “And what else?” 

Enjolras blushed. “So we got tired and he dragged me in here. We talked a bit more and…he, uh…we kissed. It wasn’t…I was thinking back to the last time he and I had shared a bed, which was high school, and I had told him I’d never kissed anyone so he kissed me then, and then last night he decided we should do it again and--” 

Grantaire kissed him. When he pulled back his eyes were full of amusement, lips turning up in a smile. “You’re rambling. It’s sort of adorable,” he teased. “So you made out with Courfeyrac,” he said matter-of-factly. “What about Combeferre? Did you have a threesome? Was it all social-justice-y?” 

He was laughing now and Enjolras glared and hit him in the shoulder. “We did not! I couldn’t…” he trailed off, blushing. 

Grantaire smiled warmly and kissed him again, letting him off the hook. He loved teasing Enjolras, loved seeing him blush, but he always knew when he was truly uncomfortable. “So did Combeferre wake up?” 

Enjolras nodded. “He told us to stop and let him sleep. But we talked a little bit more until we all fell asleep eventually.” He paused for a moment, nervous. “Grantaire, you’re not…mad?” he asked hesitantly. 

Grantaire smiled and shook his head. “I think almost every one of our friends has made out with Courfeyrac at some point or another,” he replied easily. “Myself included,” he added with a wink. 

Enjolras frowned, frustrated. “I know but…” he wasn’t quite sure how to phrase it. 

Pressing closer, Grantaire cupped his cheek in his hand and kissed him. He slipped his fingers into his hair, kissing him more deeply, pushing his tongue between his lips, holding him close, eagerly drinking in the small noises Enjolras made and the way he clenched more tightly to his shoulders. 

He pulled back slowly, pressing kisses softly against his lips, the corner of his mouth, his cheek. He ran his finger over his chin and smiled into his eyes. “I understand,” he said quietly. “And no, I’m not mad. I don’t believe you kissed him because you were cheating. I know how Courfeyrac comforts,” he said with a smile. “And I know how you feel for him, for Combeferre…for me. I know sometimes I can doubt,” he went on, voice a little shaky, a little insecure. Some of those insecurities never seemed to go away. “But I trust you, Enjolras.” 

Relieved, he smiled brightly at Grantaire and kissed him again. Enjolras hated fighting with him even if they were, as Grantaire had said, remarkably good at it. He knew it wouldn’t be their last argument, knew this wouldn’t be the last time they had to make up after one or both of them said something stupid and hurtful. But he resolved to try a little harder next time…and not let his temper get the best – or worst – of his words. 

He moaned a little when Grantaire pulled him closer, shivered at the feel of his fingers on the small of his back beneath his hiked-up shirt. He pressed closer, warm all over suddenly and wanting more. 

“Can you two _not_ have sex in my bed please?” 

He froze at the sound of Combeferre’s voice. Grantaire pulled back slowly and laughed, kissing him quickly again before pulling the sheet off of their heads. He smiled sweetly up at Combeferre. “Don’t freak out…we’re still clothed!” 

Combeferre rolled his eyes. “Great,” he said dryly. He looked over at Enjolras, a soft smile on the corner of his lips. Enjolras smiled back, his thank you to his best friend going unspoken; Combeferre always knew. 

He pulled Grantaire out of bed with him. “Sorry ‘Ferre,” he murmured. “I know you have class later.” 

Combeferre shrugged and moved to start making his bed. “I’ll call you later, k?” 

“Okay.” 

In the living room, they found Courfeyrac and Jehan on the couch but no doughnuts. “Did you really eat all of the doughnuts _and_ make out with my boyfriend? What kind of friend are you anyway?!” Grantaire exclaimed in mock indignation. He plopped down on the couch next to him and poked him in the shoulder. 

“He totally started it,” Courfeyrac replied smugly. 

“I did not, stop telling people that,” Enjolras grumbled. “Did you also drink all of the coffee? You _are_ a terrible friend.” 

“Your life-partner drank all of the coffee, not me,” Courfeyrac replied. Grantaire snorted in amusement; he knew Courfeyrac didn’t mean him. 

“I did not!” Combeferre yelled from his bedroom. 

Jehan stood up and reached out for Courfeyrac’s and Grantaire’s hands. “Let’s leave Combeferre in peace and we can go to breakfast,” he suggested as he pulled them both up from the couch. 

Enjolras brightened. “And coffee?” 

Grantaire slipped his hand into Enjolras’ and squeezed. “Yes, we can get you your coffee, Apollo.” 

Enjolras squeezed back and smiled at him. He leaned close for a moment and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” he said softly. He wasn’t talking about the coffee, and he knew Grantaire would understand. Grantaire smiled back warmly, eyes bright with affection, and pulled him in for another kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Having so much fun writing in this fandom again, so I decided to keep these in the same universe & turn them into a little series. I have an idea for at least 1 more so we'll see what happens!


End file.
